


Shot in the Leg

by Celticas



Series: Trope Bingo [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, shot in the leg, trope bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 11:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21074399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celticas/pseuds/Celticas
Summary: Phil was never going back to Australia. At least, not with Barton in tow.





	Shot in the Leg

Phil hated Australia. Well, no. To be fair he hated Australian wildlife, particularly when it came into contact with His specialist. Clint couldn’t seem to help himself, choosing a perch right next to a wasp nest, hiding in the burnt out husk of a tree which also happened to be where a snake was hiding, and picking up that pretty shell on the beach that was the home of a poisonous sea-snail of all things.

  
They had a long and storied history of Clint being attacked, viciously as he would tell it, by the overly fond of poison animals inhabiting the Land Down Under. 36 hours ago, when the mission to Tasmania had come across his desk, his first stop been to medical to update their antidote kit.

  
He was never going to accept a job in Australia again. Things had been going fine. The geneticist trying to splice dog DNA into Tasmania Devils to bring the Tasmania Tiger back from extinction had been caught. SHIELD wouldn’t have cared about what she had been doing except one of her experiments had escaped and bred with a wild population and the hybrids had been more of a problem. He couldn’t help but wince at the memory of the horrors creeping around the shadows of the scarcely inhabited islands.

  
They had been twenty minutes from extraction. So close to being free and clear. Sitting on a bank of grass next to a sparkling creek, he and Clint had been discussing where to find the best pizza in the world. Phil would always stand by his home town, deep-dish pizza is the only pizza. Clint was more fair weather, generally arguing for where ever he had last eaten his favourite meal. His current insistence that Pineapple was an acceptable pizza topic would have had Phil twitching if they weren’t still on the clock.

  
As they had talked Clint had been wandering around the little clearing. Not really doing much, just trying to work off some of the excess energy from having spent 34 hours up a tree. Lunging up the river bank and then twisting his arms and back as he walked back. Halfway back to Phil, he was distracted by something in the water. Stopping to crouch and watch.

  
Sitting meters away, all he had been able to do was watch as Clint, leaning too far out over the water, had tumbled down the small slope and into a deeper pool in the otherwise shallow creek. Water wasn’t going to kill the archer, even if he was going to be a little uncomfortable on the flight home.

  
The first words put of Clint’s mouth when he emerged were, “Ow. Fuck.” Phil was still deciding if he was going to be concerned or not, the short sentence had been used in response to everything from a bullet wound to a stubbed toe, when he spoke again. “OW OW! Son of a bitch.” Clint had a hand clamped down hard on his leg as he scrambled from the water and back up the bank. “Little furry fucker.”

  
His injured leg crumpled under him, unable to take his weight. The younger man’s face had gone white with pain and he his hands were shaking as he tried to push himself up. A whine filled the air.  
Phil almost flew to his feet, one hand going for the radio to call in a medical team, the other going to the well-stocked med kit that was with their small pile of equipment. His hand wrapped around the end of the anti-venom injector just as the radio crackled to life, Jasper on the other end ask for a sit-rep.

  
“Barton was playing with the animals again.” He said calmly as he withdrew his hand and shot Clint in the leg, just above where his hand was still clamped. The small dart of chemicals that SHIELD had developed to counteract most poisons and venoms, sped across the clearing and implanted itself into the thick muscles.

  
The hospital room looked out over the wide, slow Derwent River. It was a pretty view, definitely more interesting than the bland white of institutional paint and flooring. He could watch Clint, but something about that when he wasn’t in imminent danger of bleeding out or flat lining, always felt creepy.

  
A groan and the rustle of sheets had him turning around, momentarily sun-blind.  
“Did you get the number plate?” Clint asked, voice rough with sleep and drugs, without opening his eyes. Face scrunched up with remembered pain.

  
“If you would stop walking into traffic I wouldn’t have to keep writing tickets.” It was old call and respond from Clint’s first day’s with SHIELD. The agency had caught up with the young mercenary after a rogue nun on a moped had taken him out in the Vatican. It was a request for confirmation of safety. It was a show of how much he trusted Phil that he would take Phil’s words over his own eyes.

  
“Hey.” He finally opened his eyes. “What happened?”  
“A platypus.” Phil struggled to keep the laughter out of his voice.  
“A what?” Clint was struggling to sit up in the unfamiliar hospital bed.

  
With a careful hand on his chest, Phil stopped him. Reaching down the side of the bed, he thumbed the control and let the bed slowly rise.

  
“A venomous marsupial.” The grin crept into his voice that time. Curtesy of Jasper, the story would already be all over HQ. If there wasn’t at least one stuffed platypus on Clint’s desk when they got back, he would eat his favourite tie. “I also might have shot you. In the leg. Twice.” He had needed to administer a second dose in the helicopter on the way to the hospital.

  
Clint knew about the antidote kit, knew there was one in their packs, and knew the researcher who had designed it was slightly sadistic. That didn’t stop him from complaining the whole way home that his had _shot him!_

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all, some hang with me on tumblr to see what I’m up to.


End file.
